The Summer after Nationals
by lookaroundyouandsmile
Summary: What happens during the summer after Nationals, with Quinn's point of view. Probably strictly Fabrevans, but that may change later on.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hi! :) This is my first fanfiction, (like, ever). I'm really new at this, so if I ever do something wrong, or there's a problem, please tell me! I decided to write a Sam & Quinn fanfiction because they're my FAVORITE couple on Glee. And I know they're not together anymore...but a girl can dream, right? So please review, for I will be very happy if you do. (It will be the first time I get reviews!) Please just tell me what you think about my story, because I'm really curious about it...(: Oh, and P.S.: English is not my first language, so there may be some stuffs that doesn't sound right, or doesn't make sense. Please let me know if there is! By the way, sorry for making this really long author note, I got a little carried away. ;p Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfic!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, or any of its characters. It would be too much of a work anyway. Though Sam & Quinn would still be together...

* * *

><p>It's summer. Finally. As much as I like school(...in a way), I was relieved when the final bell rang, pointing out the end of school and the start of summer. Goodbye to classes and a whole lot of drama, and hello to the sun and a whole lot of freedom... And so summer vacation started. I left my empty locker behind and went back home, looking forward to the summer that was ahead of me. I am now in my comfy bed, where I just woke up, thinking about all of the things I will do during these two months of freedom.<p>

_Okay, enough lazing in bed and just _thinking_ about summer. I gotta wake up! _

I lie in my bed a few more seconds before I think: _Hum, I should go buy a frappuccino, it's been a while. Man, I missed getting one of those every now and then... Okay, okay, I'm getting up._

And so I wake up, wash myself, put on a simple summer dress (without the usual cardigan) and grab my small purse, headed for the coffee shop down the block. Since it's close by, I decide to walk under the sun, satisfied about the perfect temperature on this first day of summer.

_Gosh, it feels so good to just walk under the sun and feel the sweet summer breeze. I missed simply walking around without any troubles above my head, getting a fresh frappuccino. ...I love summer._

I finally arrive in front of the coffee shop, open the familiar door where it's written «Push», and...freeze, as I recognize, in about 5 meters from me, a very familiar, tall, blond guy: ...Sam. Weirdly, the sight of him brings me a bunch of flashes and memories of our...previous relationship, which makes me a bit uncomfortable. But it isn't the sight of the guy I use to date that makes me nail on the spot. It's the sight of his hand, _holding another girl's hand_. A girl that I very much know; ..._Mercedes._

* * *

><p>I stay on that very same spot, still holding the door, for about a minute, chocked. Not even the fact that someone's actually trying to come in the shop makes me move. My mind is totally blank. Empty. And then, as if someone turned on a switch, a flow of confused thoughts all mixed up rushes in my mind. Too many thoughts, actually, that I can't seem to focus on one to truly understand any of them. Lost and confused about what's happening to me, I turn around and run as fast as I possibly can to my house, forgetting all about my so desired frappuccino. (And finally letting that person behind me get in the coffee shop.) I run, run, run, barely thinking about what's around me. I don't even give a thought at all the heads turning when I run by. As I arrive in my house and run up in my room, a little part of my brain that isn't invaded by a flow of thoughts is grateful that my mom already left, leaving me alone in my house. I arrive in my room, breathless and slightly sweaty of running all the way from the coffee shop, and let myself fall on my bed.<p>

_...Wait, _what _just happened? Is the summer air somehow altering my brain or something? I mean, I saw Sam at a coffee shop. ...So? Okay, he was holding Mercedes' hand...But it doesn't _necessarily_ mean they're dating... And even if they were, I wouldn't care. I _shouldn't_ care. It's not like we're dating, or that I love him or anything. _I_ was the reason we broke up in the first place. It was _my _fault. And anyway, he _did_ date Santana after me. I didn't care _that_ much__ then. Why am I so moved _now_? I...I guess I knew that nothing could really be _serious_ with _Santana_...(?) But it could and probably will be with Mercedes. ...Not that I care. No, I really don't..._

But as I think that, a new flow a mixed thoughts rushes through my mind. _Gosh, I feel like my head is going to explode! _And so, shaken, I instinctively take my iPod on my bedside table, put my earphones on and put the volume pretty loud, trying to cover my confused rush of thoughts. I eventually succeed (sort of) as I fall asleep on my bed again.

* * *

><p>So, what did you think? (I know, it's mildly boring for now...But it <em>is<em> the first chapter...) Thank you for taking the time to read my first chapter (ever!) ! Oh, by the way, there's this little button called «Review this story» waiting for you. (:


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hi! I just wanted to say _thank you _for reading my story! I know I'm not the best writer, but just the thought that someone else than myself actually reads what I write puts a _big _smile on my face. :D By the way, I don't know how fast we're supposed to post our chapters (like I already said, I'm new to the whole fanfiction thing...) but weirdly, I have the feeling that it took a lot of time (?)so anyway, here it is! I know it's pretty short, but that's all I've got for now...

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, or any of its characters. No, really, I'm not that much of a genius. Though Ryan Murphy is. :)

* * *

><p>I wake up an hour later, (wow, I guess I still was kind of sleepy...) and go straight up to the bathroom to splash water on my face to try to clear my head. My mind is still filled with the image of Sam's hand holding <em>Mercedes'. <em>As I tightly grip the edges of the sink and I lift my head up to look into the mirror, I don't see the usual beautiful and confident girl with a slightly superior look in her eyes. I don't even see the pretty, bright girl I sometimes see during the summer. The girl in the mirror's me, alright. But the look in her eyes is confused, and lost.

Why_ is this shattering me so much? _

I shake my head, trying once again to clear my thoughts.

Seriously_, what is _wrong _with me? ...I mean, okay, I get it. _I loved Sam._ I guess he, somehow, managed to get through all the extra protection I had built around my heart... (Wow, _that _sounded corny.) He made me feel...different, I guess. Special. In a way, I felt vulnerable in front of him, yet I still felt _safe_. From all the guys that I have dated, he...he was the one who brought me closer to...love, I guess. (Not that I would admit that to _anyone.)_ And yet I blew it. (He's probably dating _Mercedes_ now...) ...Yeah, it's true. _I loved him_. But that's the _point_. I love__d__ him. I don't love him anymore. ...I gotta stop letting guys shatter me all the time. I can't let them move me that much anymore. Especially Sam. I guess I gotta give up finding love, too, then. I...I'll find the right guy when it'll be time... I gotta start being more independent. This year was supposed to be about me. It wasn't. Sam and Finn somehow managed to get in there and...break my heart. No more of that. I'm starting over. Fresh. Summer's a good start. I'm gonna be independent from now on. _As I take another look at myself in the mirror, I'm happy to find a familiar, yet a little different, girl in the mirror. I can see the confident and slightly superior look in her eyes, but also a sparkle of independence. & that's what I'm going to be from now on. Independent.

* * *

><p>I go back in my room, when I hear that familiar sound I usually hear when I receive a text. I go check my cellphone, and this is what appears on the screen:<p>

From: Santana

Usual beginning of summer party tonight. At 8 to...whenever u want;) U comin, right?

_Really? A «beginning of summer» party? That girl really seizes any opportunity to have a couple of drinks and guys around. ...Humh, but I guess it _is_ a _Santana_ party...It would be perfect to get my mind off my... weird breakdown of this morning. (...and Sam.) And it'll be a great start for my whole independence thing._ I quickly reply:

To: Santana

'course im coming! See u there.:)

Santana and I have pretty much always been friends. Not _real_ friends, though. We're both smart enough to know that it's always good to keep you enemies real close... We were what people would call «frienemies». We would always hang out, without necessarily considering each other as best friends. Brittany was the one between us, even though I think that she was somehow closer to Santana...Which I don't quite understand, since Britt is the definition of innocence and kindness, (with a lot of stupidity too...) while Santana is...well, let's be honest, a b*tch. However, I do suspect her to be slightly kind underneath all of that...very, thick and bold, nastiness. Anyway, since that day in the hotel room during Nationals when she somehow managed to help me get my mind off of my post-break-up/depression phase, our relationship kind of changed. We're closer, more friends, now. We don't consider ourselves at frienemies anymore. (Not _that much_, anyway.) We're really friends...which I wouldn't have thought possible, really. I mean, who would've known?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, what do you think? I know, I know, it's _really_ short, and not much is going on, just a whole lot of Quinn-thinking. Sorry about that...:( But the next chapter's going to be better, don't worry! (or at least, I hope...)

P.S.: Like I said (a _lot_ of times), I'm not familiar with the site and everything...So I don't know how I'm suppose to react to reviews...Do I have to answer them? & if I want to, how am I supposed to? Anyway, I just wanted to say _thank you SO SO much_ for the reviews! Seriously! I _love_ knowing what you guys think of my writing. :) I was literally jumping up and down everywhere when I got my first review. (No kidding.) I'm such a kid...x) But really, I appreciate it _SO _much, _**thank you.**_

Oh, and if you don't mind, you can click on the review button...;)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey everyone! I'm so _very_ sorry if it took a lot of time to update! I've been busy making the most of my summer...you know? Anyway, I'm still sorry if it took a lot of time! See, I have a general idea of where I'm going with this story, but I'm not sure of how to get there... Do _you _have any idea/suggestions for what can happen (events and stuff...). I'll consider it! So...have fun reading this following chapter, and thank you again for taking time to read this!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee, or any of its characters. Or Sam would still be in Glee season 3 to get back with Quinn.

* * *

><p>At 7h57, (yes, very precise, I know) I leave my house and also my mom, whom I've already told that I was going to hang out at Santana's and come back real late. (No, she doesn't know about the party, and doesn't have to.)<p>

I'm usually not that much of a party-person. I like to go to some parties now and then to get my mind off of things, but it's just not something I do often. Also, I usually know my limits and stop drinking when I know it's getting too much. I mean, now I _actually_ _know_ some consequences lead by drinking one too many wine coolers. (That is, carrying someone else other than yourself for 9 months (yes, I mean being pregnant, obviously), _and_ being thrown down of the high school social pyramid as well.) And so, I usually don't look forward to parties that much. However, I am kind of looking forward to Santana's party. I'm a little eager to turn on my independent/icy attitude back on. I know it's weird, but I feel like I have to prove something to myself. Like what happened this morning was a slight breakdown due to, I don't know, PMS or something, and that I really _can_ be totally unmoved by guys now, (...including Sam.)

That's what I'm thinking as I get into my car, keys in my hand.

_Okay, so in about 10 minutes, I'll be at Santana's house, and I'll be able to forget all about, hum...well, Sam. Wait, no, not about him. (Why would I need to forget about him? He's just a...guy like any other. ...He _is_. Period.) I'll just hang out with a couple of Cheerios and ignore any lame flirting attempts from football players. ...Cheerleaders and football players. They're the ones that Santana usually invites at her parties, though any other popular kids can come too. No non-popular students _ever_ come to a Santana party. Someone who would would be out of their mind. Who am I kidding, no loser _would_ come to a _Santana_ party. Popular kids, cheerleaders and football players are the only ones who _can_ come to a party hosted by _Santana_. _

And suddenly, it struck me.

_Football players... _Sam_. Football player. Sam. In the football team. Sam. Party. Sam. Santana's party. _Sam. Sam's going to be at Santana's party.

* * *

><p><em>- How <em> could I have _forgotten_ that _Sam_ was on the football team?

I'm on the side of the road, where I parked myself once I realized someone was honking at me for not moving forward for too long. I'm holding my head in my hands, mentally hitting myself for my stupidity.

- Gosh, of _course_ Sam is in the football team! Which means he's going to be at Santana's party, which also means I'll eventually have to meet him... _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

And then I snapped out of it, suddenly raising my head up.

'_No, no...stop, Quinn, stop.' _I think, shaking my head. _Calm down. _Why _do you keep thinking about _Sam_? _What if_ you meet him at the party? He's not going to attack you or anything. _

And then I think about it. The last party I've been. At Rachel's house. (A ironic snort escapes my mouth at the thought of _Rachel.) _Though I don't remember most of the party since I was, well, a little drunk, the beginning of it is very clear in my head. It was (really) boring, and _...painful_. Watching Sam and Santana (and Sam and Brittany afterward...) make-out was more of an agonizing experience than I would've thought. It just..._hurt_. Really bad.  
>I know I was the one who cheated, thus leading to our break-up...But the sight of Sam kissing another girl than me made my heart ache. I <em>tried<em> to hide it, but it really wasn't the easiest thing to do.

Not that it matters anymore. I'm over him. I mean, it's been a while since we dated and I even dated Finn afterward, (though I _do_ regret it now...) so, you know...

_Okay, seriously, I've _got_ to stop. I have a party to attend to anyway._

So I go back on the road and drive to Santana's house, trying to forget about all of my regrets.

* * *

><p>A couple of minutes later, I'm in front of Santana's gigantic house. Really, no matter how many times I go there, I'm always stunned at how <em>big<em> it is, (and how _beautiful/expensive-looking _it looks.) And that's coming from me. I guess her dad _is_ a doctor... Hum, anyway, so I'm in front of her door and am slightly wondering if it's still a good idea to go in there...

_No, no, come on. It's a _party_. Go have fun! ...Alright, then. Here goes nothing..._

I knock delicately on the immense white door, and even though the music is pretty loud in there, someone opens the door.

- Hey Quinn!, says Santana, a genuine smile drawing on her face as she recognizes me.

_Wow, an honest smile on Santana's face. That's a first. And really weird... ...Maybe the endless hours spent with Brittany finally paid off?_

Though I'm rather startled by her smile, I still answer, genuinely smiling back:

- Hey, Santana.

- So, you ready to party or what?, she asks, smirking.

_Ahh, there's the Santana I know..._, I think, amused.

- As ready as you are.

* * *

><p>I spend the next few hours mostly hanging out with Santana and Brittany, having a couple of drinks (though not too much), laughing, and actually having fun. I didn't meet Sam yet. I...didn't really <em>avoid<em> him. (...I just had to go somewhere else when he was in a room I was about to enter. But I wasn't _avoiding_ him.) Really, I wasn't. It wouldn't _bother _me to talk to him. But it _would_ be awkward...Yeah, awkward. That's the reason why I haven't faced him yet, okay?

Anyway, so I realize that my cup's almost empty, so I leave the group of girls I am with to get a refill at the nearest table. However, I soon realize that all of the bottles are empty. Sighing, I decide to just go get a new bottle in the fridge. I arrive in the kitchen (or is it? I thought the kitchen was in the other way...) and open the expensive-looking fridge to get a fresh wine cooler when I suddenly hear a voice pronouncing my name. A voice that I'd recognize anytime, anywhere. A voice that belongs to this tall, blond, guy I keep thinking about (against my will)...Sam .

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So, what did you think? You're free to express your opinion by reviewing. ;D I'll love you if do. Really, I immensely appreciate _every single one_ of your reviews! Oh, and like I said in the beginning of the chapter, if you have any ideas for what you want to see happen, go on and express yourself, I promise I'll consider it! :) Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Hey people! Sorry I haven't updated for a while... Like I already told you (and you're probably getting tired of hearing this,) but I'm not completely sure where I'm going with the story...So please care to give your suggestions! Anyway, here it goes:

**Disclaimer:** I do _not_ own Glee, or any of its characters. No, really I don't. I'm telling you! Really, I don't.

* * *

><p>-Quinn.<p>

I know it's him. I _know_ it's Sam. Don't ask me why, I just do. The intonation of his voice, the way he says my name... I could recognize it anywhere. Even if he's behind me, and half of me is in the fridge, a bottle of wine cooler in my hand, I can still hear him. And I know it's him.

I slowly turn around, (I mean, I can't turn my back on him forever,) and see him. He has a fresh new hair-cut. His blond hair falls gently on his eyebrows, like the first time we've met.

I then realize that I'm slightly scrutinizing him, so I quickly answer, with the most neutral tone I can manage:

-Hey.

As our eyes meet, a sincere smile appears on his face.

_Gosh, I missed that smile. He just has this way of smiling that lights up the room..._

- I haven't seen you around, Sam says, breaking the silence.

- Yeah, me neither..., I say, after a minor hesitation. ...What do you want, Santana's house is huge!

We end up chuckling, breaking the tension.

- So how have you been, Sam?

Though I used to come over at his «house» every week to help his family out, the regularity of my visits slowly faded, and I ended up completely stopping my weekly visits. I felt guilty, of course. I knew that I helped Sam's family out a lot by babysitting the kids. But I just got really busy with the exams, prom, Nationals... Plus, it was still a bit awkward with Sam. We had superficial conversations, but never really talked about what happened...

But I really _do_ care about how he has been...

- I'm good, actually!

As he says that, his face lights up, just like a child on Christmas Eve. It's adorable.

- My dad found a job, and we'll soon be able to move out of, well...our «house»...

I can tell he's still ashamed of that motel room. He really had a hard time, dealing with everything that happened.

- Really?, I answer, surprised. That's great.

And I genuinely mean it. He has been through so much...

- ...But Stacy and Stevie still miss you. They've been asking me when you'll come back.

I smile as I hear Sam's sibling's names. I've missed them too.

- Well, tell them I'll come back as soon as I can.

- I will.

* * *

><p>We continue to have small talk, as we walk at the other side of the main party room (so we can actually hear ourselves talking). A couple of minutes later, we arrive in front of what seems like an isolated common room, therefore stopping our conversation. He gives me a look, as if asking if we should go sit on the expensive-looking couches. I nod warily, suddenly worrying that something...<em>weird<em>...might happen.  
>I mean, I feel like the atmosphere just changed. We can barely hear the music anymore, the room is dim, and we both stopped talking...<p>

We both slowly go sit on either sides of the three-place sofa, still not talking... _Okay, this is definitely awkward. _

Feeling uncomfortable, I grab the cushion on my right and hold it onto my chest, as if it can chase away the heavy and tense ambiance around us.

A few more minutes pass by, only intensifying the thickness of the atmosphere. I know I should talk, but the silence makes me uncomfortable...I feel like I'm not suppose to break it. _Oh dear, I'm really starting to regret coming here... Gosh, why isn't he talking?_

- Why did you do it?, Sam suddenly says, breaking the silence.

- ...what do you mean?

I take a glance at Sam; he's looking at a spot on the floor, probably avoiding my look intentionally.

_Wait_...he's not talking about what I think he's talking about...is he? He's surely not talking about... _us?_

He seems to get his senses back and looks straight in my eyes; it's my turn to avoid his look.

- You know what I mean. ...Why did you do it? Why did you..._kiss him_?

He pronounces those last two words so low that I'm not even sure I heard him right.

He _is_. He's talking about _us_. I freeze for a second, trying to assimilate that information. No _guy_ ever talks about _feelings._ Not with _me,_ anyway. Heck, some people don't even think I _have _feelings. I just _don't_ talk about that stuff. That's how girls like me keep their power; we hide our feelings, so that people never know where they stand with us. Plus, going into that part that's buried deep inside me... Just _thinking_ about it... It hurts too much. I mean, I never talked about that stuff with Finn. Puck _either._ But _Sam_... He's different. ...I _owe_ him an explanation.

- You really wanna know?, I finally answer reluctantly.

He barely hesitates before firmly saying:

- Yeah.

I know this is going to hurt. Really bad. I'm probably going to regret it, too. Really bad. But it's too late to look back...

I take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

- I...I loved you, Sam. I really did., I finally let out.

I can already feel it stinging in the bottom of my stomach. I hold on tighter to the cushion, trying to chase the pain. _Oversensitive, much?,_ I think, trying to convince myself that what I'm feeling is completely ridiculous, no matter how real it feels. I let a couple of seconds pass by again.

- Why did you do it, then?, Sam says, a hurt look in his eyes.

I feel my eyes getting filled with tears, but I hold them back. _Stupid teen hormones. _I take another deep breath and bring myself to start explaining.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So, what did you think? Yes, it's extremely short, I know... I wanted to write a whole lot more, but I'm going to this camp for a week starting Monday and I wanted to post something before I go, you know? (So yeah, that means the next chapter won't be posted before a little while...sorry..:| But if you have any ideas of what could happen, it _could_ go faster! (; ) Oh, and thank you _so, so, so,_ much for your reviews (and the favs and the alerts too!)! I appreciate it veryyyy much! ;D (...Care to leave any reviews on this chapter, too?(: ) I love you all! (...Even if I don't really know you...)


End file.
